


The Maddening of Hatter

by starsandstillness



Category: Alice (2009)
Genre: Backstory, Canon Compliant, F/M, Hatter POV, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-17
Updated: 2015-07-23
Packaged: 2018-04-04 20:19:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4151508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starsandstillness/pseuds/starsandstillness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a place like Wonderland, doing the right thing can get you killed. You’d have to be mad to be a hero. Hatter prefers acceptable risks—and acceptable rewards. Until he meets an utterly mad, astoundingly heroic Oyster named Alice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Man Who Knows

_In which Hatter lets his curiosity get the better of him._

 

Alice of Legend. _Really_.

“What makes you say that?” Hatter asked.

“She told me she was,” Ratty insisted.

“And you believed her?”

“Well…”

“Did she shrink down really small?” Hatter asked. “Or grow big as a house?”

“No.”

“Cry a room full of tears?”

“…No?”

“Ah.” Clearly, Ratty lacked a classical education.

“But she says her name’s Alice,” Ratty insisted. Hatter gave him another skeptical look, in case he’d missed the last one.

“And she’s an Oyster,” Ratty continued. “And… she’s got a blue dress on, like in them old pictures.”

 _Well, someone’s done their homework_ , Hatter thought.

“It’s _her_ , Hatter! She’s looking for somebody!”

Hatter considered him for a moment and sighed. Ratty would fall for anything. Of course, that’s why Hatter kept him around—he wasn’t smart enough to pull anything.

Apparently _someone_ thought they could con Hatter, though. Everyone was always trying to get something for free.

“Give me a good price for her?” Ratty asked. “She’s worth a whole ounce, maybe. Right?”

Hatter made a point to know all the angles, and this was a new one. What do you do with a mythical hero?

“Yeah. Bring her in,” he said. “Keep it quiet in the shop, though.”

Ratty nodded enthusiastically and ran back out the door.

Whoever this “Alice” turned out to be, she’d be an improvement over Ratty’s usual deliveries—the sodden shoes and clothes he took from anyone floating face-down in the City’s canals. Unpleasant business, but it kept everyone in the Great Library warm in a way that was impossible to trace.

As a rule, Hatter never paid his scavengers in Tea. He’d lost some business because of that, but it was worth it. Addicts made poor employees. Besides, most of his scavengers were kids, and every time Hatter saw a stick-thin teenager crouched in an alley, staring off into space through a haze of Satisfaction, it made him stick to his stomach.

Bad memories.

He still sold it, of course—Tea was respectable. But the black market? That was profitable. The Queen had banned anything that might dampen or stir up emotions, and she’d outlawed anything from Wonderland’s past, its knights and kings. Fortunately for Hatter, many people still had a taste for forbidden things, and they were willing to pay handsomely for them.

The Queen’s war and her Teas had wreaked havoc on Wonderland, and the City was still riddled with abandoned warehouses and apartments. It was a paradise for scavengers (and only-slightly-less-than-reputable businessmen). If you had an empty stomach and a good eye, there was plenty of contraband to be found, and Hatter would give you a good price for it.

His off-the-record clients included nobles, mobsters, royal employees, and Resistance members. Most of them knew he played both sides, but they put up with it. Hatter was the best. Whatever you wanted—alcohol, banned books, golden age art, antique weapons—Hatter could get it for you.

The Tea Shop helped, of course. That’s why Hatter had vied so hard to get his hands on one. It gave him a legitimate front and somewhere to store the goods—not to mention an endless supply of Wonderland’s most valuable commodity.

Hatter liked to think he kept his part of the black market running like a well-oiled machine. The constable ignored any suspicious goings-on thanks to his monthly box of cigars, which Hatter got from a contact at the Casino, who was paid in Tea, which was carefully hidden by Hatter’s accountant, as long as she received a regular bottle of bourbon.

The job wasn’t without its risks, but it certainly wasn’t without its benefits either. Hatter had a nice bit of savings growing, and he got to drink India’s finest Darjeeling teas every day. Not only that, but the scavengers got to eat, the Resistance got what they needed, and the Queen was regularly defied by her own employees.

It made Hatter smile just thinking about it.


	2. Lost and Found

_In which Hatter buys himself a world of trouble._

 

Hatter was sitting with his back to the door, wondering how exactly the Queen harvested Clear Conscience, when he heard them come in.

“Would you like a cup of tea?” he asked, before turning to give “Alice” a good, long look. She certainly didn’t seem heroic. No, this must be Alice from the beginning of the story — small, wet, and utterly lost.

“No, thank you. Who are you?” she challenged, like she was daring him to put one over on her. _Curious_.

“A friend, I hope,” he said. “I run the Tea Shop.”

Ratty untied a rag on her arm to reveal what looked like a Glow, at least from a distance. “See?” he said.

Hatter waited for her to spin her tale, but she just stood there dripping and watching him warily. He wondered who had sent her. Gryphon, maybe? Magpie? His reputation must be slipping. Only a complete softy would be expected to fall for the damsel in distress routine.

“How’d you break out of the scarab?” he prompted.

“What, the beetle thing? Well, I used my hairpin and–” she gestured to her clothes.

“Fell.”

“As you can see, I’m drenched,” she said. He nodded, smiling despite himself. She certainly was nice to look at. Nevertheless, Alice was supposed to be blond, which this Oyster wasn’t. And the dress was all wrong, blue or not. Whoever Hatter was dealing with had seriously overestimated his susceptibility to a pretty face.

“Look, this place–” She faltered. “Where… what is it?”

“Oh, Wonderland,” he said.

“That’s a story in a kid’s book.”

 _What kind of idiotic—_ “Does this look like a kids’ story to you?” he snapped.

“No,” she admitted, looking slightly embarrassed, but still not giving an inch.

Hatter didn’t know what to make of her. Maybe she is an Oyster. About time Ratty got something right.

Like most Wonderlanders, Hatter had never actually met an Oyster. He’d seen some at a distance during a Casino tour and dinner for the Queen’s Tea Shop proprietors, but that was it. (The tour had also included a look at the beheading room and a charming meet-and-greet with March, her favorite assassin. She certainly knew how to make a point.)

But despite what the Resistance had taught him about Oysters and their world, Hatter had always pictured them as docile and not too bright, liked they’d looked in the Casino, like... well, like cattle, actually. He knew it wasn’t logical, but it made his job easier.

This Oyster was something else, though. She was alert, self-possessed, and seemed pretty savvy. She was also deep-down terrified — he could practically feel it — but she wasn’t going to admit it. It was possible that she was just a really good actress, but Hatter doubted it.

Oyster or not, she wasn’t being very forthcoming, and that just wouldn’t do. Fortunately, reading people was Hatter’s specialty. It was just good business: don’t make a deal until you know more about them than they do about you.

And if somebody doesn’t want to be read, you just have to find their buttons. And push them.

“It’s changed a lot since then,” he said, coming over to get a better look at her.

“So you’re saying that it was real?” she asked.

“You Oysters don’t know how to find us, so — excuse me.” He took her arm and inspected the Glow. “You tell yourselves we don’t exist. And quite frankly, we’d like to keep it that way.”

The mark looked real enough. Dodo would know.

 _Of course, maybe finding the Great Library is what this is all about,_ he thought. _Nah, the Queen’s not that sly. If she thought I was in the Resistance, I’d be in the Truth Room already._

“Why am I an ‘Oyster?’ Wh– this?” She gestured to her arm.

“That’s not going to come off. Sorry.” He gave her a mischievous grin, which she failed to appreciate.

“Only people from your world turn green when burnt by the light,” he explained. “It’s the Suits’ way of branding their catch. And they call you Oysters because of the shiny little pearls that you all carry inside.”

“What do you mean, pearls?”

As she dropped her arms to her sides, Hatter noticed her fiddling with something, a golden ring with a large stone. _Well_ , he thought, _that adds a new piece to the puzzle_.

“She’s Alice!” Ratty interrupted. “Tell him who you are!”

“Wow! Really?” Hatter asked with mock excitement. He circled her, leaning in closely. “Ooooooo.”

It seemed to make her nervous, and she glared daggers at him. _Excellent_.

“Ratty here,” he said, “thinks you’re Alice… of Legend.” If she was going to play the hero card, now would be the time.

“Who?” she asked.

“The last time a girl called Alice came here from your world,” Hatter explained, “she brought down the whole house of cards.” He leaned in again, deliberately invading her space. “Oh, yeah. Made quite an impression.”

He was definitely getting to her, but still all she did was glare. This Oyster was fierce like the legendary Alice, that was for sure. No nonsense and all that. Looked like she’d spit in the Queen’s face if she wanted to.

 _Now, wouldn’t that be something_ , Hatter thought. _The real Alice come back. Shuffle the whole damn lot of them, eh? Wonderland—_

Then he did the math, and came swiftly back to reality.“Although that was 150 years ago,” he said, mentally kicking himself. “It can’t be the same girl. Oysters don’t even live that long.” _You romantic idiot. Next it’ll be the White Knights, eh? Just like Granddad always said._

“I still want a good price,” Ratty insisted.

For some reason, this pushed her over the edge. “Wait a minute!” she shouted. “I am not for sale.”

Hatter gestured for her to wait, gave her a look that said, “Can you believe this guy?” and went to find a suitable reward for Ratty.

He browsed his private stock for something that would get Ratty out the door and out of commission for a while. Serenity? No. Excitement would do it, but it was an awfully valuable trade for one little Oyster, even if she did have a ring to bargain with.

Did he trust her? Mostly, he decided. He was willing to bet she was an Oyster, so unless she’d been really sneaky (and she didn’t seem the type), the White Rabbit had noticed she was gone and would be out looking for her. At the moment she seriously needed a friend, and Ratty wasn’t it. And if this was a con after all, Dodo could take care of her, and he’d still get his cut of the ring. Either way, it was worth the gamble.

Now, to make Ratty forget all about the boring old Oyster, even if her name was Alice.

“Here we are,” Hatter announced, displaying the bottle. He brought it slowly toward Ratty, crafting his pitch. “Pink nectar. Filled with the thrill of human Excitement. Fifty Oysters were drained of every last drop of hullabaloo so that you, Ratty, could taste what it feels like to win…just…this…once.”

He held it out, but snatched it back again at the last moment. “Warning! Don’t take it on an empty stomach, and only one tiny drop at a time, or the experience might burst your shriveled-up little heart. Got it?”

“Got it,” Ratty nodded.

“Good. Go.” Ratty scurried out, clutching the bottle. _I still got it_ , Hatter thought with a smile.

“Oysters were drained?” she asked, jarring him back. “What do you mean drained?”

 Right. She’d heard that, hadn’t she. Hatter really didn’t want to talk about this. Best to change the subject. “Ratty tells me you're looking for someone.”

“His name is Jack Chase. He was taken by a man with a white rabbit on his lapel.”

Hatter’s stomach dropped. _Damn. Of course it’s an Oyster, idiot. Who’d you think she was going to be looking for? Owl?_

“I see.” Hatter calmly took a sip of tea. “Hmm.” He felt powerless, which was unusual and unwelcome.

The Resistance treated Oysters like a problem to be solved, not a people to be freed. And Hatter preferred not to think about them at all. He did his part and let Caterpillar and company worry about the big picture. No sense getting bent out of shape about something you couldn’t change, right?

But here it was, staring him in the face. Someone this Oyster knew had disappeared into the Casino, someone with a home and a name—maybe even kids. And he was never coming back.

Sometimes Hatter really hated this place.

“The White Rabbit is an organization controlled by the Suits,” he explained, trying to stay professional. “They travel back and forth through the Looking Glass and ‘banish’ people from your world to ours.” It sounded so much worse when he said it out loud like that.

"Why?”

“To use.”

“Use?” she asked.

Hatter was an honest man, mostly. The trick was telling the right amount of truth at the right time. That had probably been too much.

“Did I say use? A slip of the tongue. They’re fine! You know, they keep them… alive and… moderately happy.”

“How do I get to this casino?” she asked. Her voice was calm, like she was just curious, but her face was hard with anger.

With a shock, Hatter realized that she meant it. The Oyster was completely mad — brave, but mad. Who hears about someone holding her boyfriend captive and decides to just stop by? What’s she going to do, knock on the door?

He almost laughed. “That’s the thing! You don’t. Way too dangerous.” Hatter couldn’t imagine the kind of power and information you’d need to spring someone from the Casino. The idea was ludicrous.

But he couldn’t just let her go. She was going to get eaten alive, unless the White Rabbit found her first. And then there’d be no helping her, just like there was no helping her boyfriend.

Dodo and the Resistance were her best option, he decided. They would do as much as they could, in exchange for that lovely ring, and he could take a little off the top for his troubles. Everybody’s happy.

“But I know some people,” he went on, “who know some, well, other people, if you know what I mean. It’s one of the privileges of running a Tea Shop.”

It wasn’t exactly a promise of help, but thankfully, she didn’t notice. At the very least, the Resistance would keep her out of trouble long enough to get her safely out of Wonderland.

Hatter went to his closet and grabbed a purple velvet coat someone had traded him last winter for an ounce of Innocence. He wished he didn’t remember that.

“You should wear this,” he said, bringing it to Alice. “It’ll cover the Glow, and stop you from catching a cold.”

“I have a little money,” she said. “But I understand you don’t use that here.”

“Pieces of paper? Pointless.”

“Then why would you help me?”

For this to work, she'd have to start trusting him, even a little. Time to turn on the charm. He circled behind her and said softly in her ear, “Do I need a reason to help a pretty girl in a very wet dress?”

The look she gave him was like a slap in the face.

“Oh, I see. You don’t trust me. Fine! I am genuinely hurt.”

It took all Hatter’s self-control not to scream in frustration. It wasn’t enough that the Resistance treated him like some kind of shabby con artist. Now this Oyster, who he was helping at the risk of his own life and professional reputation, assumed he was some kind of… of…

 _You know where I’d be today if I wasn’t a decent guy?_ he wanted to ask. _Not still pushing Tea in this godforsaken City, that’s for sure. I’m no knight, alright? But I’m the best you’re going to get._

“You know why they call me Hatter?”

“Because you wear a hat?”

“No.”   _Pull yourself together, Hatter. You’re a professional. Give her a reason to trust you_. “Because I’m always there when they ‘pass the hat,’ so to speak. Philanthropy, generosity, I mean, you can call it what you will — it’s who I am!” His conscience kicked him, but he ignored it. That was mostly true, no matter what that rotter Dodo thought. He wasn’t in this business for his health, was he?

“And right now,” he said, “looking at you there, there’s nothing I want more than to help you find…” _Oh, come on_.

“Jack,” she said.

“Jack! And return you both to your charming world of children’s stories.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I know what you’re thinking,” he said. “But if I’m the frying pan, then that out there is the fire.” No exaggeration there.

She still didn’t budge. Maybe it was time to tone down the selfless hero act, since she wasn’t buying it anyway.

“I’ll be square with you,” he said. “I know people who like to help your kind. And if every once in a while I scratch their back…”

“They’ll scratch yours,” she finished. She didn’t really look convinced, but maybe it would be enough.

“Precisely. Lotta scratching!”

He waited. After one more appraising look, she turned and picked up the coat.

Bingo.

“Do try to keep up,” he said, opening the back door.

It was turning out to be a very interesting day.

 


	3. A Long Way Down

_In which Hatter sees something worth saving._

 

Outside the Tea Shop’s back door was a ladder down to a narrow ledge far from any well-used path. When he reached the bottom of the ladder, Hatter turned and lifted Alice the last few feet down to the ground.

She looked up at him, her hands resting lightly on his shoulders, and suddenly Hatter was seized with an almost overpowering desire to kiss her. He could imagine his arms wrapping around her, the feel of her lips…

 _What the hell, Hatter?_ He checked himself to make sure he hadn’t actually moved. _No getting involved with Oysters. Idiot._

“Thank you,” Alice said stiffly.

He realized that his hands were still on her hips, dropped them — _Right. Back to business_. — then turned and strode determinedly toward the Great Library as if nothing had happened.

 _Where the hell did that come from?_ Alice was pretty, but it’s not like he went around kissing every good-looking woman he saw, even when he had the chance. _‘Course, most girls I meet are just after the Tea..._

He heard a gasp and turned to find Alice backed up against the ladder, clinging to it tightly with both hands. She stared wide-eyed at the ledge just a step in front of her, frozen in terror.

“What’s the matter?” he asked.

“I’ve got a thing about heights,” she said, her voice tight.

Hatter leaned forward and looked over the edge. Birds soared between the buildings, and trees sprouted from ledges dozens of stories below. You could barely make out the ground. He forgot sometimes how high they were; you stopped noticing it after a while.

Alice laughed nervously. “Why couldn’t you guys build this city on the ground?”

Hatter sighed. Couldn’t _anything_ be simple with this woman? “Look at me,” he said.

But Alice didn’t move. If anything, she clung to the ladder tighter. Her eyes were closed, and each shuddering breath seemed like a battle.

The sight was, well, rather unsettling. A minute ago, Alice had been charging headlong into the unknown. Now, all of her fierceness — all of what Hatter already thought of as her Alice-ness — was gone. One step out the back door, and she’d been completely undone by an ordinary, everyday Wonderland danger. The first of many.

Hatter could still remember his first weeks in the City. He’d hated the heights, too. He’d also gotten lost twice, slept on the street, been cheated out of most of what he owned, and seen two people get shot. It had been terrifying, and he’d had friends and family with him.

 _Not that it did much good in the end_ , he thought. _Wonderland…_

“Alice,” he said quietly. She looked at him then — doubtful, hopeful. Hatter held out his hand, and after a long moment, she let go of the ladder and took it. He felt something move inside him, sharp and painful. This woman had no business being in his hellhole of a kingdom.

“Try not to look down, okay?” he asked.

Alice nodded, and he led her slowly away from the ledge. Her eyes didn’t leave his for a second.

 

* * * *

 

When they reached a small alleyway with sturdy walls on two sides, he stopped and gave Alice a minute to find her bearings. She leaned against a wall and closed her eyes again, but still clung to his hand like a lifeline.

It reminded Hatter of his first trip to the Great Library, also taking someone both terrified and brave.

About five years ago, the (now former) Nine of Spades had stopped by the Tea Shop for his bottle of contraband wine and passed on a bit of gossip. It seemed one of the pre-war noble families was hiding out in the City. They were nobody of real importance, but a little girl was overheard bragging that her great-grandpa was a Knight, and the Queen felt it was best to nip that in the bud. So if Hatter knew anyone, shall we say, subtle, this would be a great way for them to get in the Queen’s good graces.

Hatter feigned interest and got the address — one he knew well. He excused himself as quickly as he could, ducked out the back door, and tore down to the place, where he found Will (one of his youngest scavengers), Will’s 5-year-old sister Lily, a tall stack of contraband books, and a Tea-addled father twitching in bed.

It was them, all right. They even had a rusty old shield propped up in the corner. Their father refused to budge, but Hatter snuck the kids back to the Tea Shop and hid them in the basement. (The books, sadly, had to stay behind.)

It took a little persuasion, but Dormie finally admitted to knowing someone in the Resistance. He agreed to contact them, and the next night, a few hours before sunrise, Dodo and Daisy came to take the kids to the Great Library.

That was when the trouble started. Hatter refused to let the kids leave with total strangers, no matter who they claimed to be, and insisted on coming along to the Library. Dodo wouldn’t hear of it. He insulted Hatter, lectured him, patronized him, and when Hatter still wouldn’t budge, he shouted and raged about Hatter’s idiocy, his selfishness, and his desecration of everything pure and good about Wonderland.

It was Daisy who eventually got Dodo to come around. Daisy was the Great Library’s steward, of sorts — making sure everyone was fed, clothed, and taken care of — and she could think of plenty of ways a Tea Shop owner might come in handy for the Resistance. And for some reason Hatter never understood, she seemed to trust him almost at once.

Dodo finally agreed to let Hatter come and, with ill-disguised contempt, led their little party out the Tea Shop’s back door.

As they started down the ladder, Lily (who had been very brave so far) looked out at the darkness and froze. She’d left her father and her home, slept in a strange basement full of mysterious boxes, and stayed very calm while Dodo ranted and cursed. But now that she had to set out in the night again, she just couldn’t move.

Hatter knelt down beside her. “Lily, do you know the story about Alice rescuing the baby from the Duchess?” She nodded. And they quietly told it to each other, with Hatter beginning and Lily filling in her favorite parts, as he lifted her onto his back, climbed down the ladder, and carried her all the way to the Library.

That had been the beginning of Hatter’s mostly-unofficial association with the Resistance. They may have been a load of idealistic fools, but they were Wonderland’s only hope, small a hope as that was. And if Hatter could keep a few more of them alive, well, that was something. Right?

Hatter saw Will’s face again in his mind’s eye and sighed. _Yeah, but alive for how long? No–_

“Thank you,” Alice said, interrupting his thoughts. She let go of his hand, stood up, and took a deep breath, trying to look composed. Hatter could see she was still trembling a little, and he had to fight the sudden, bewildering impulse to wrap his arms around her.

“We should keep moving,” he said. _Let’s get this over with._

Alice nodded, and they continued on. Against his better judgment, Hatter chose a route with fewer ledges and more chances of being noticed. With any luck, they would still be there in less than half an hour.


	4. Her Biggest Threat

_In which Hatter considers the cause._

 

When they reached the door to the Great Library, Hatter knocked, and Duck made them go through the whole password rigmarole. Hatter considered it his personal greeting from Dodo—just one more way of letting him know who was in charge.

As they rode the jury-rigged bus-turned-elevator down to the Library, he watched Alice. She was a bit agitated, but she was holding herself together, which he appreciated. This next bit would be tricky.

Sure enough, when the car stopped and the doors opened, there was Owl, her sawn-off shotgun pointed straight at their heads. Owl gestured with the gun, and Hatter and Alice stepped out into the hall, hands raised.

“Why don’t we just put these things away?” said Hatter, forcing a smile. “You know me well enough.”

“We have our orders,” Duck growled. Hatter rolled his eyes. It hadn’t taken him long to get back on Dodo’s black list, had it? Last week, one of his scavengers had found a box of books in an abandoned apartment. The kid got a nice pay day, Hatter got a volume of golden age epic poetry, and the local constable got a dozen of those trashy romance novels he loved so much. Dodo got what was left—two nice, leather-bound books of philosophy. Clearly it hadn’t been enough.

Dodo thought that, as far as the Library was concerned, he should be the one making all the decisions. Hatter begged to differ. Dodo’s temper tantrums weren’t anything he couldn’t handle.

As for Duck and Owl, all they needed was a little reminder. “Did you like the box of comfits I brought you guys last week?” he asked. “The cured meats and the cheese?”

“They’re all gone,” Duck said pathetically.

“Well, if you don’t treat me with a little respect, you won’t get another crumb.” There was a pregnant pause while they considered a dim future with no contraband treats. Finally, Owl lowered her gun.

“Sorry, Hatter,” she said. “Everyone’s a little jumpy.” She turned and led them down the hall.

“Everyone’s always a little jumpy,” Hatter grumbled, following. _These people are going to save Wonderland?_ he thought. _Yeah, and I’m going to be king._

The Resistance were the good guys, sure, but Dodo and his little “army” were useless as a chocolate teapot. They could barely keep the lights on in this place, and that was with Hatter’s help. Dodo didn’t do any actual work, of course, just reminisced about the Good Old Days, pontificated, and treated Hatter like dirt.

Somewhere out there, Resistance forces were wreaking havoc on the Hearts. Was Hatter risking his life for _them_? Of course not. He was kowtowing to an arrogant blowhard who once called him “a maggot feeding on Wonderland’s rotting corpse.”

Sometimes Hatter wondered why he even bothered.

They came around the corner, and Alice got her first view of Wonderland’s best kept secret.

“Where are we?” she gasped.

“The Great Library. There’s five hundred years of history hidden here—art, literature, law—rescued when the Queen of Hearts seized power. She’d like nothing more than to see this burnt to nothing.”

Hatter figured the whole place had been a hotel once, and they were looking down on what was left of the ballroom. But while the sculpted ceiling was still hung with crystal chandeliers, the marble floor had been lost under a multitude of books. There were thousands of them, crammed into a hodge-podge maze of shelves, towering in precarious piles on the floor.

And huddled between the beautiful words and dangerous ideas were dozens of hungry, homeless Wonderlanders.

“Who are those poor people?” Alice asked.

“Refugees—those who don’t want to be part of the Queen’s world of instant gratification. We give them shelter and try to feed them the best we can. If the Queen found out, they wouldn’t stand a chance.”

Alice leaned on the railing, looking over the refugees, and Hatter did the same, really seeing them for the first time in a long time. They were a motley bunch—a teenage girl rocking a baby, a child trying to get an old woman to eat, a boy and a girl playing “knights” between the stacks, a man reading aloud to a group of knitting women.

They were, far and away, people who had never harmed a soul. But they or their families had somehow defied the Queen—speaking their mind at the wrong time, earning the ire of a Suit or Tea peddler, reading the old stories to their children.

And for daring to have hope, for daring to wish that Wonderland were as it should be, they’d lost their homes, their families, and their futures, in exchange for life in this book-filled twilight, where Wonderland kept all her treasures hidden together.

As he watched them, Hatter suddenly remembered something his granddad used to tell him when he’d gotten in a scrape and come home black and blue—something he hadn’t thought about in years. “Fight like a knight,” the old man would say, his eyes blazing, “not 'cause you hate somebody, not 'cause they called you ‘trash.’ You fight to protect something good. Otherwise you’re just a thug.”

Always the knight, his granddad, even when mucking out somebody else’s stables. _He would have loved this place_ , Hatter thought. _If anyone is weak and needs shielding, it’s these people._

_Forget Dodo. They’re why you bother, Hatter. You’d let her have your head before you gave them up._

“Why does the Queen want to destroy all of this?” Alice asked.

“Wisdom is her biggest threat. She controls people with a quick fix.” _Or she destroys them, one after another._

Hatter “reinvested” about a quarter of the Queen’s profit in supplies for the Great Library, thanks to some creative accounting. But it was never enough. There were people they couldn’t take in because they couldn’t trust them or didn’t have room. There were food shortages and coal shortages and epidemics. And just when you thought you were holding your own, a bunch of idealistic kids left to join the fight and never came back.

It really would break your heart, if you let it.

Hatter turned to Alice, and what he saw amazed him. Her sadness—for complete strangers—had changed to fierce anger.

 _She is utterly mad_ , he thought, and had to stop himself from smiling. Because he’d caught himself wondering if, just maybe, this Alice was the kind of person who could bring down the Queen.

He sighed. _Don’t be making her into your hero again, Hatter. She couldn’t even walk down the street on her own, remember? Do you really want her to die in some stupid Resistance scheme—Alice from another world, who doesn’t owe you anything? She’s not on some quest to save Wonderland. She just wants to find her boyfriend and go home._

Good thing, too. People like Alice didn’t last long in Wonderland.

That was the problem with all this hero business, all the stories about honor and glory—they had nothing to do with real life. Hatter couldn’t think of a single one about running from the Suits, or scraping together enough for a meal, or filling someone’s pockets with rocks and dropping them into a canal because you couldn’t afford to bury them. How exactly were you supposed to be a knight in a place like Wonderland?

Besides, he reminded himself, the Resistance already had enough idealistic fools. What they needed was a smart businessman. What they needed was Hatter, bringing in the cash and keeping everyone off their backs. And since Hatter’s value to the Resistance depended on his perfect record with the Suits, he needed to stay as far away from escaped Oysters as possible.

 _That’s right, you daft romantic_ , he reminded himself. _You do not go on quests. You did your part, and now the Resistance will do theirs. It is time to close this deal._

Because this was businesses—business for the “greater good” and all, but still business. Alice was going to have to learn, like he learned: nothing in Wonderland comes for free. She was willing to risk her life for her boyfriend? Fantastic. Hopefully she’d be willing to sacrifice her ring instead.

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s go meet Dodo.”

_And get this over with._


	5. Ante Up

_In which Hatter feels like the only sane man in Wonderland._

  
  
Ten minutes later, Hatter lay sprawled on the floor of the elevator where Alice had dumped him, trying to figure out what the hell had just happened—and defending himself to the mad woman he’d _just taken a bullet for_.  
  
“I was trying to help you!”  
  
“By selling my ring?”  
  
“I didn’t know it was the Stone of Wonderland, did I?”  
  
“Well, you could have asked me before bringing me here.”  
  
“You wouldn’t have come.” _And then you would’ve been killed_.  
  
“You’re damn right I wouldn’t!”  
  
When Alice finally stopped shouting, Hatter pulled himself to his feet and began taking off his coat.  
  
“What are you doing?” she snapped.  
  
“I need to get this stuff off. It’s only good for one use when you’re shot point-blank. I can’t breathe.”  
  
She turned back to face the front of the car, arms crossed firmly in front of her. The carriage clanked to a stop, and Alice opened the door but didn’t leave.  
  
_Most common sense she’s shown all day_ , Hatter thought.  
  
He gingerly shook off his jacket, and as the pain seared across his chest, he felt a surge of anger. _I was trying to help, damn it_. Yeah, so he was a world champion at covering his ass. But it’s not like anyone else was going to. And what was he supposed to live off—gratitude?  
  
_You know why I didn’t tell you about giving Dodo the ring?_ he wanted to shout. _Because stupidly heroic people expect everyone else to be stupidly heroic too. You’re in the real Wonderland, not some story book._  
  
He got the vest loose and gingerly slipped it over his head, trying to keep the grunting  to a minimum.  
  
_So I’m no bleedin’ hero. I knew that a long time ago. But I’m the best you’re going to get._  
  
He threw the dented vest to the floor, and Alice jumped.  
  
How had the situation gotten so out of hand? Alice hadn’t backed down once, that’s how—even with that egomaniac’s gun in her face.  
  
Of course, Hatter’d let himself get worked up too. He could usually blow Dodo off, but even the _memory_ of Dodo call him an “ungrateful leech” and a “blood-sucking carpetbagger” made him see red.  
  
_And then you went and proved him right—bargaining over Alice like she’s contraband._  
  
_Yeah, well, nothing in Wonderland comes for free, right?_  
  
Hatter pulled on his shirt and glanced up at Alice, still glaring at the wall—watched her tuck a lock of hair nervously behind her ear.  
  
_But maybe it should_. The Hearts bought and sold people, but the Resistance didn’t. Hatter didn’t.  
  
_Usually_.  
  
He sighed. _Whatever happened to “noble and true,” eh?_  
  
As he picked up his coat, Alice turned and ran down the stairs, disappearing around the corner.  
  
“Wait!” he shouted, grabbing his hat.

  
* * * *

  
  
When Hatter finally caught up, Alice was charging heedlessly in the worst direction possible. She was also losing her cool, which was incredibly dangerous. One wrong move, and the Suits would be on them, depriving Hatter of his head and Alice of her… self. It was not a prospect he was ready to face.  
  
Fortunately, Hatter had a place to lay low and at least a dozen “associates” who owed him favors. He just had to get her back to the Tea Shop.  
  
“Listen, calm down,” he said.  “I’m going to try and get you home, okay?”  
  
But Alice was still livid, and not about Dodo. “Oh, really. And what’s in it for you? Let me guess, you want your usual cut up front?”  
  
“I don’t blame you for being angry. I acted… impetuously.”  
  
“Selfishly! You acted selfishly!”  
  
Hatter’s retort died in his mouth. “Whatever word you wanna... use,” he finished. He suddenly felt incredibly tired. “Let me make it up to you. Alice, this is a dangerous place. Trust me, you’re going to need my help.”  
  
She regarded him for a long moment. “All right. For now.”

  
  
* * * *

  
  
On the walk back to the Tea Shop, he tried to encourage a little self-preservation, but Alice wouldn’t hear it. She just kept going off about bloody Jack and how “none of this was his fault.” As if innocence mattered.  
  
“The point is,” she concluded, “I’m the only one who can get him out of this mess.”  
  
“How’d you figure that out?”  
  
“I’ve got the ring. I can use it to negotiate his release.”  
  
Wait a minute. “Ah, no. No.” A feeling suspiciously like panic was wrapping itself around Hatter’s chest.  
  
“No?”  
  
“Look, you can’t negotiate with the Queen. She’s crazy!”  Yup, that was panic, all right. “You have to cut your losses. You get the hell out of here while you still can!”  
  
“No, I can’t just abandon Jack. He’s innocent,” Alice insisted again. “And besides, I like him.”  
  
“Oh, you like him,” he snapped.  
  
“Yes. A lot!”  
  
“Trust me, I know a thing or two about liking people.”— _One: most aren’t worth it. Two: it doesn’t do any bloody good._ —“And in time, after much chocolate and cream cake, ‘like’ turns into ‘What was his name again?’”  
  
“No, not in my world. Look–”  
  
But there was the Tea Shop, straight ahead. And Hatter's last dependable asset was looking a lot less secure.  



End file.
